Endless Weiss
by Aki-niichan Aki's Notebook
Summary: All three parts of the opening of my WeissXGundam crossover, plus after. Who sleeps where, how and with *who*?
1. Endless Weiss prologue

Endless Weiß   
Standard disclaimers apply!  
  
Part 1  
One slanted brown eye cracked open, wincing at the blurry sight of Weiss' red-headed leader untying his apron and the flood of early morning sunlight invading the shop as he was hurled a piece of ruffly-edged fabric. The freshly-pressed apron had promptly landed over his head and he cast it aside, keeping it a good distance from his reach. Aya scowled and stood before the counter, arms crossed for a while before grabbing the apron and shoving it to his face, taking the hint that he was not going to put it on anytime soon without prodding.   
"Put this on. Now."   
Ken grumbled something in his arm, not wanting to stare death in the face today. Atleast not while he was still half-dreaming. Aya's stern, impatient voice kept with him, apron implanted on is forehead with a grunt. "I'll have you know it's after twelve Ken."  
"Yare, yare…" Was it? Oh yeah, he was late for his shift.  
When he finally lifted his chin Aya was at the door, one foot out and apronless, obviously not going to explain where he was hiding into, again.   
Great, Ken huffed; he was stuck in the boring flower hell alone… shit. As soon as the redhead was out of sight he nestled his head back on his arms and sighed heavily, going back to sleep.   
  
  
The little bells jingled over the flowershop door, footsteps lightly easing their way in. Ken shifted in his seat, shutting out the unexpected noise, when suddenly cold fingers groped the sides of his face, chilled skin jolting his with startling electricity. He let out a high-pitched yelp, jumping in his seat as giggles poured from behind him,   
"Konnichiwa!"  
Ken shook his head, face buried in hands to wipe away the stinging numbness and the embarrassment, before grasping a fleeing, chuckling Omi into his reach to punish the boy. By tickling, of course.   
"You little…! Cold are you?" Omi flailed helplessly as he was tickled, before melting into a limp puddle of defeat.  
"Hidoi! Ken-niichan I give up!"   
Omi fell in a gutless heap in Ken's arms, wiping away at watery eyes as the older boy finally gave in and stopped the tickling. He was simply holding him now, arms still clenched almost possevely over Omi's waist. Omi leaned towards him, sighing softly,   
"I brought you something niichan." Omi reached for his fallen backpack sideways, careful not to break the contact.  
"Oh?" Awkward hands starting to numb over T-shirt clad skin, slowly dragging the cloth upward to reveal patches of Omi's flat stomach as the boy moved. He felt light-headed, and husked at his ear, savoring the shampoo-drifted fragrance. "Will I like it…?"   
Omi bit on his lower lip, peering into his bag with serious intent. "Hai!"  
Ken tried to pull the bag away but Omi shifted, rubbing against his groin. He moaned inwardly, hands pushed away at the heavy load on his lap before his arousal became evident to the oblivious boy.  
"Ah! Here it is!" Omi pulled out a small box proudly, handing it over to Ken. He caught it absently, fumbling with the top of the carton. It was a simple white box, English letters written all over. It looked dangerously familiar, as though he had seen it somewhere, like in Yoji's room…   
His other hand dipped into the rim of denim shorts as he tried to maneuver Omi away from his groin, tingly sensations burning inside when he didn't find the matching elastic underneath. Omi was, was wearing… "No underwear?"   
Ken's heartbeat tripled, breathing a tedious obligation. The present, the *presents*. So this was Omi's game, coming here ready and armed with… No, of course not! The young innocent wouldn't, ever! It was impossible! Improbable! Incredible…  
He finally flipped up the cover and extracted the contents, finding a slender oval, gold-foil covered stick barely the size of his pinky. He lifted it to his face, bewildered, before gazing at the expectant blue eyes. He'd heard of a glue stick, but *this*?   
"Omi, what is this?" he asked, without another thought.   
Omi retrieved the box and lifted it to Ken's line of sight. "Imported dark chocolate." He announced proudly. "It's got kirsh inside! I thought you might like it."   
Ken stared at the token, dumbstruck. This was it? He felt his erection simply *weeping*.  
Maybe chibi Omi really was too young to runstart a smoldering innuendo like that, but when he heard the words… Ken groaned. He let his libido get the best of him again; quickly he pushed it back into his groin and threatened to scold it later.   
"Why? What did you think?" Atleast Omi wouldn't get the situation. "Don't you like it?"  
Ken stifled a frustrated remark and let himself soften a bit, tousling baby-fine hair with a little more gusto to divert his embarrassment. "Ah, it must cost you a lot. Thank you." You could've done much better though, for free.   
Omi smiled sweetly, closing the latch of his bag. "I didn't buy it. A friend gave it to me."   
Ken smiled back, appreciating the display of sunshine from his boy, when the thought hit him. A thin brow rose. "Eh?"   
Omi nodded. "Yup. My classmate. I just talked to him a while ago."   
Ken quelled the barrage of queries stampeding at his throat, feigning casual indifference. "A boy in school?"   
Omi pushed himself up the counter to sit himself by one of Ken's arrangements. He had started fussing with some loose petals here and there, making the product more presentable. "He's a new student. I was assigned to show him around since we're seatmates."   
Lips quirked. "Oh. He's thanking you with this piece of chocolate." Containing alcohol. From Belgium. In a gold foil wrap. Shaped like a… God dammit calm down Kenken! He could feel Yojiesque thoughts burning at the back of his mind.   
Omi shrugged. "Yeah, he does it all the time. He even bought me some ice cream last week."   
Now Ken gasped. Imported sweets packaged like expensive lubricant, fine. But ice cream?!? Some hormonal teeny-bopper had given his Omi *ice cream*? Patience bedamned! As experience had taught him giving a young boy ice cream was an act of extreme immoral intention. Why, he himself had been plied with the stuff way back when he and Yoji first met…   
Omi let out a little yelp as Ken snatched him from the counter, brown assassin gaze locking into his eyes. Steam was practically seething between gritted teeth. "Who is this kid?" This bastard, this idiot, this, this, shotakon hentai!!!   
Omi blinked, answered, then blinked again. "Duo-kun?" The heated cringe on Ken's pout clued him in, and Omi's eyes widened, violet rose petals hanging unchewed at the edge of his mouth. "Is something wrong?"   
Ken sputtered, anger dying a quick, indignant death. Him? Hidaka Ken, a first-class lethal assassin, jealous of a little boy? Omi never particularly said he was but he knew what that had meant, if only to himself. "No!" was all he could spout off.   
Omi brightened, eyes disappearing in the wide-smiled face. "Mochiron. He's really nice. You'll like him."   
Ken scowled, the incident of their first meeting flashing in his head. /I'll bet./ Strangely there was no one else in the narrow alley at the time and…   
Soft hands brushed against his cheek before Omi wriggled free from his grasp. "I have to change Ken-niichan. I'll be back right away." He waved back before pouting and pulled at his waist, under the band of his shorts. "And I am wearing boxers! You just pushed em down while you were tickling me!" He pulled the red cotton edge for all the world to see and smirked triumphantly. Ken sweatdropped, knees weakening. "Bii~idah!"   
Ken gulped, eyes trailing the slight, giddy young figure walking off, faint red still misting over his sight. He had nothing to worry about, really. Omi wasn't a girl, no matter how pretty he was, how sweet, how attractive and impossibly lithe his body was and how out-of-control he was making Ken's bodily functions perform. Judging from the way Omi reacted to Ouka's death, the way he seemed to like her, it was painfully obvious that the boy would end up straight, straight ahead, and out of reach.   
Generous boy didn't have a chance. Neither of them did.   
  
  
Part 2  
Wufei eyed the blackboard stoically, more intent on blocking out the hisses and whispers from his left than listening to the lecture. He kept his grip firmly on the other edge of his table, knuckles strained white as he controlled the urge to whip it across to the restless, braided baka poking at his arm with a pen for the past half-hour. If he kept this up he was bound to gut him soon.   
The sliding doors opened, revealing a discomfited, albeit cheerful blond boy carrying folders stacked almost up to his head. The sensei approached him right away, retrieving the hand-outs. "Thank you for photocopying these Omi-kun."   
Duo's face was plastered with the stupidest grin, and Wufei thanked Nataku that his other seatmate was finally back. He went back to his notes, hearing the ridiculously loud whisper from his side. "Man I'm glad you're back! I was stuck here forever with Wu-chan, and his hearing's botched!"   
Wufei sighed. What an idiot.   
  
The bell rang, boys and girls exploding down the halls, lockers slamming open and close in succession. Omi finished copying the homework and starting fixing his things when a scuffle of feet approached him. "Hey Omi-kun, what are you doing this afternoon? We're just hanging out today. Wanna come?"   
Omi turned to see some of his new classmates around him. One of them was as expressionless as Aya, with different undertones, and the other two were smiling. Duo was tugging on his braid, eyes pleading.   
Omi smiled back, easily pleased by the friendliness of the new boys. He had never been social at school, or had any friends his age even though everyone was extra nice to him out of sympathy for his lack of parents and the fact that he had the highest grades, the most cheerful attitude, and by far, led in the looks department. Ouka was a rare case, and what had transpired between them wasn't exactly plain friendship. It was just bad he had a shift that afternoon. "Em, gomen Duo-kun. I have work. Maybe some other time?"   
Duo's face fell, Quatre's turned curious. "Ne, Omi-kun, where do you go to work?"   
Omi reddened a bit, despite his effort not to. This always kept male friends away, the affirmation of suspicions based on his rather feminine looks. "Um, the Koneko no Sumu. It's a… flowershop…"  
To his surprise, the mild green eye flickered, turning gentle without a change in expression. Beside him Quatre beamed. "A flowershop? Can we go see?"   
Omi blinked. "Honto?"   
Duo shrugged, eyes softening towards the blonde's direction. "He likes flowers. God knows why."   
Omi shrugged. "I guess Ken-niichan wouldn't mind…"   
  
/jingle, jingle/   
"Hey Omi-chan!" A brown haired boy in a soccer jersey crossed the room carrying a pot of soil, quickly laying it down to approach the younger boy. He fisted a small piece of paper in one hand, stopping mid-track when he saw Omi.   
/jingle, jingle/  
Duo's eyes brightened. Little bells continued to ring in his head, making him feel delirious. On and on it flashed in his mind, *bishounen, bishounen, bishounen*. The boy in observation gave them an easy grin. "Brought some customers?"   
Omi smiled back. "Ne, Ken-niichan, these are my classmates. And this is Duo-kun, the one who gave me chocolate yesterday."   
Recognition dawned easily, upon hearing the name he had learned despise. Duo-kun? Evil little chibi devils danced around his head, some with purple ears and tails. The Duo-kun. Ken eyed the boy, jaw clenched in a grating smile. The boy was about Omi's age, with long brown hair braided up to his waist and sparkling violet eyes, much like Aya's. Not bad, not bad at all. He ground his teeth harder.   
The damnable boy stared at him bemusedly, looking back and then back to him. Before any of them could ask why, his face lit up. "Ne, Omi-kun, he kind of looks like Quatre-chan!"   
Duo grinned maniacally, his eyes wandering. The dark hair, with that cut, the eyebrows and jaw and full lips… Hot damn Ken-kun was gorgeous! If Quatre would blossom into this in a few years than maybe he was worth the wait after all!  
Ken, on the other hand, was flabbergasted beyond words. Quatre? Who the hell was that? Another ice-cream wielding brat? Surely Omi would never… "You're right! They do!"   
Ken fought the urge to groan. Or sob. Duo's smile was starting to unnerve him.   
Fighting his guts for docility, his wits won. Ken wiped his hands at his apron and held it out to shake his hands with the boy. Namely to get it over with as soon as possible and get the kids out of the store, leaving Omi alone… with him.   
Duo grabbed the offered hand enthusiastically. "Ken right? Why didn't you tell me you had a brother, Omi?"   
Omi giggled. "He's not my brother. We're just very close friends."   
"Friends?" Duo leered. "Very close?" A hand tugged on his braid before he could continue. He turned back menacingly at both suspects behind him. Trowa stood stoically, face blank. Quatre just looked confused. He pointed an accusing finger at Trowa, more shocked than angry. "Y-you? But you never…"  
Omi blinked. "That must've hurt. What happened?"   
Ken sweatdropped. "It's nothing Omi-chan, don't mind it."   
Before Duo could mutter anything else Trowa muddled in, mainly for Quatre's sake. "I'm Trowa. This here is Quatre" He held out his hand and shook Ken's. Ken smiled, appreciating the solid handshake. Trowa he approved of. He didn't seem raucous at all. But then, so did Crawford…   
Quatre also shook his hand, still a bit embarrassed by their comparison. He didn't seem like the florist at all. Ken was so broad-shouldered and much taller and had chocolate brown eyes and was soo~o handsome and… his heart flip-flopped and he felt himself turn a shade redder. Ken beamed. So this was Quatre. He was definitely much more sweet looking and younger than him but the boy was kinda cute. Very cute. In fact he reminded him of…  
Omi was about to drag the group to an array of his arrangements when the door jingled open again. He frowned slightly, realizing it was dismissal time so students of all schools and races would be crushing into the store anytime soon. Before he could go off pretending to get something under the counter – and make Ken the only available salesperson they could bother, a low soothing voice filled his ears.   
"Yo." Smoke wafted through the shop. Ken was back to his arrangements.   
"Oi Yoji do it outside. The customers will be here soon."   
Yoji shrugged and blew a curl of white smoke towards his direction, but started for the back door. "Don't be so tight Kenken." He passed behind him, giving the younger boy a casual slap on his rear. Ken promptly sweatdropped and sprayed him with water.   
Yoji merely ignored the sprinkle of water on his ear before he caught sight of the group arranged at the other side of the shop around Omi. With a disbelieving gesture he grabbed at Ken's collar, sending tumbling back on the floor. He scowled at Yoji, chagrined.   
"You idiot what was that…" A hand clamped over his mouth, the other pointed upwards as Yoji knelt beside him. "I've heard of fangirls, but… fanboys?"   
Ken sweatdropped, slapping off Yoji's hand. "Their just his classmates Yoji. Japan isn't that liberated."   
"Oh yeah, then why is that braided kid…" before he finished, Ken's head had twisted backwards in a painful looking manner, seeing the spectacle to himself. Duo's left arm was hooked on Omi's waist, fingers deliberately twirling blond strands between them. Brown orbs burst into flames.   
Ken stood up, aghast. With assassin fatal stride he stalked the shed with purpose on his step, or as much purpose as he could mutter up. As he approached the group Duo spotted him first.   
"What's wrong Ken-kun?" Ken bit his lip, not wanting to cuss in front of Omi. The small blond twirled around with pleading big eyes. "Ken-kun, can they stay for dinner with us?"   
Ken's mouth dropped, fury thrown out the window. What? Quatre's voice easily chipped in. "We'll bring food, if it's alright that is."   
Both huge blue pools stared at him now, glimmering Ken's biggest fear next to Yoji walking into the bathroom while he was showering – that is, tears. Whenever Omi turned on the pipes Ken would do *anything*, including scourging every 24 hour convenience store in the vicinity for chocolate ice cream at three a.m., just to appease the little darling. He absolutely melted under the threat of two pairs wobbling towards him. Before he could relent he figured out a good excuse.   
"Better ask Yoji-kun and Aya-kun first.   
  
  
Duo rang the doorbell, a huge grin already plastered to his face. Since it was a bit chillier that night he was able to wear his black jacket to complete his usual outfit. Quatre was also in his common outfit, a pink long-sleeved shirt worn with a vest and khakis. Trowa, on the other hand, was in white blouse folded at the sleeves to his elbows and jeans, simply because Duo wanted to see him in something other than a turtleneck for a change. Behind the three was Heero in his usual green tank top, but as Trowa, duo convinced him to ditch the spandex for a black pair of jeans.   
The door was opened by a red-haired, stern-faced young man. Duo absolutely beamed. Another one?!?   
"You must be Omi's friends."   
They all piled in, Gundam roster complete except for Wufei, who protested injustice knowing this would be a yaoi evening. /snicker/. Duo introduced all of them himself.   
They entered the small dining area, a round table crammed with eight chairs. Omi was just finishing setting the table and Yoji stood by the window, finishing his cigarette. Ken was nowhere to be found.   
After the usual greetings they all settled down, and Ken appeared from the hall. His hair was still wet, obviously given one rough tousle and simply finger-combed. He sat beside Omi, naturally, regardless being beside Duo as well. Actually he intended to sit between them.   
They started eating, marveling at the meal Quatre had chosen and paid for, being that the Winner heir had spared no expense in providing a gourmet line-up. Ken was happily stuffing his face with ebi temakis while Quatre and Omi were discussing a school project. Trowa sat quietly the whole time, stealing glances at Quatre whenever Yoji would cut in on the conversation and Heero and Aya seemed to have found common ground for conversation: how to cut a radish so seamlessly that you could put them back together immediately like nothing happened, Himura Kenchin style.   
As for Duo, he was *happy*. Four fabulous new *older* bishounen surrounded him and he could almost not decide who was the most attractive, that is, whenever he could pry his eyes off one oblivious, brown-haired florist. The soccer player had actually gotten him quite smitten, making his veins pump with giddy somersaults whenever their elbows or knees would *accidentally* brush against each other. His food was left untouched, much to his every co-pilot's extreme shock, his entire span of attention pouring more and more to this new found young man at his proximity. Hidaka Ken was just so good-looking, so shy, and *so* near.   
A horrendous bolt of thunder snapped him out of it, making him squeak an undignifying yelp. Had he been so preoccupied that he hadn't noticed that it was raining? Quatre's face clouded.   
"Oh no it's getting worse!" He tugged at Trowa's hand by habit and pleaded the stoic pilot for assurances. "If the rain doesn't stop, how are we going to walk home?"   
Aya nodded curtly. "There's only one umbrella, and it's in the shop. Yoji will get it."   
The oldest in the group sputtered. "Nani? Why me?"   
Icy violet turned a fraction narrower. "Because I said so."   
"K'so. I'm not taking my baby out there in the rain! You get it!"   
"You. Get. It."   
"Well I'm taking your car."   
"You will not touch my car!"   
"Dame! Please, talk about this maturely!" Everyone turned to the thirteen year-od looking sixteen year-old. Aya and Yoji both sweatdropped. Before they could utter another word Omi brightened.   
"I know! They can sleep over just for tonight! We're not going to, um, be busy, so why not? I've never had a sleepover before or even had friends over. We can share rooms!"   
Ken choked on his wonton, Duo spurring into action by handing him *his* glass.   
Big blue eyes started to wobble at the sight of disapproving stares. He immediately turned to the root cause, eyes locking with violet. "Please? I'll stay in the couch if I have to."   
The ethereal orbs softened, pressed lips tempted to twitch upward. "You won't have to." He turned a withering gaze to an oblivious Ken, who suddenly swallowed whatever it was locked at his throat for the past few minutes. He still couldn't believe that Aya allowed the boys to come over, and now *this*? Duo had resisted with sheer iron will to pat his back, deciding to give him more to drink instead.   
"So you guys gonna stay?" Trowa nodded lightly. He didn't want Quatre catching a cold.   
Yoji stood up, grabbing his plate. "Well it's late. We better start turning in." Everyone almost keeled in shock, even the pilots. Was this really Kudou Yoji speaking? He glanced back with a perfectly innocent face. "What? Growing boys need lots of sleep." He gave Omi a little wink and the boy chuckled. Ken all but growled. It was going to be a *long* night.  
  
  
Part 3  
Sleeping arrangements had been made. Both Heero and Aya chose each other for a roommate, inclined to getting silence for the rest of the night. Ken had volunteered to house Duo, much to the braided one's delight, simply to be able to monitor him all night and make sure he kept away from Omi's room at all costs. Then he promptly assigned Trowa to the younger boy's room, just to be sure.   
And besides, Yoji had *insisted* Quatre stay in his room.   
Everyone was ready for bed, but since Omi had turned the waterworks on Aya, the katana-wielding assassin had them piled in the living room after all their nightly rituals for whatever Omi had planned.   
Heero was still in his green tank top, but had slid off the jeans to reveal his more customary spandex. Omi lent Trowa a shirt, which fit properly at the shoulders being that Omi preferred loose clothing at bed, but was slightly too short, revealing a swatch of smooth skin before his navy blue boxers. Duo was wearing a red shirt over his black boxers, grinning madly as Ken sulked his loss in only the crimson pajama bottoms, just accepting it with the fact that he was feeling awfully warm. All the Weiss boys were in pajamas, except for Yoji, who finally strode in the room in a black silk robe.   
Ken raised a brow at the outfit. Wasn't it what Yoji wore when… A comfy little blond was walking behind him, in overly large black pajamas folded at the sleeves and ankles. Duo cheered. "Sugoi Quatre-chan, I've never seen you in black!"   
Heero sweatdropped.   
Omi cleared his throat to get everyone's attention, waving an empty sake bottle in the air. Aya's eyes narrowed. "I don't remember drinking that much during dinner."   
Quatre squawked. "I don't drink Aya-kun!" he expressed needlessly, obvious as it was that he could not be the culprit. Heero snorted and Trowa, well, looked around. Yoji shook his hand when the wandering stopped at him. "If I drank it, why would I deny it? I'm the oldest here."   
Then the Wing pilot added, "it couldn't have been Duo, or he'd be out by now."   
Duo looked like he was going to say something, but smirked instead. His gaze lightly traveled to his left slightly, where a light-headed flushed soccer-player clutched his head and met with dubious stares. "What?"  
Omi gasped. "Ken-niichan, you don't drink!"   
Ken moaned. "I know. Some baka must've given me the sake while I was choki…" Duo suddenly lept in place, managing to jump while seated, as impossible as that may seem. "Why don't we start Omi-kun!"  
Omi blinked, then smiled. "Hai!" Imminent cheer filled his voice and eyes. "We're playing Truth or Dare!"   
Ken's eyes broke open. "K'so! No way!" Omi's face fell and he found his resolve dropping. "Er, I mean…"   
Yoji eyed Ken's reaction and smirked. "I didn't know you swore Kenken." The chocolate brown slits shot him a fierce glare. "Oh shut up!"   
Omi brightened once more a crawled to the center of the circle to place the bottle and spin it. Breaths were held, fists clenching, as the piece of glass twirled in the middle, slowing down to tick, tick, and finally halt at…   
"Dare."   
Quatre giggled. "Figures!"   
Everyone watched the stoic young soldier, expression never betraying what he was feeling at the moment. Duo was particularly staring, biting his lip and then finally exploding into full maniacal grin as he raised his hands wildly in the air. Heero rolled his eyes and suppressed a groan.   
The grin was indecent, hands tugging on braid like a man with a plan. "Hee-chan?"  
/eyebrow tick/ "Yes?"   
"You realize you honor is at stake here…?"   
"Yes."   
"You know you have to do the dare."   
A clipped nod. "Yes."   
"Well then," violent eyes glinted evilly. "Strip."   
Everyone's jaws dropped, except for Trowa and Aya. Heero's fists had clenched, but he remained unmoved, as if he didn't hear.   
Quatre had turned red to his roots. "Duo, mou!"   
Duo shrugged. "Why not? He didn't seem to have any second thoughts about stripping Shinigami's parts back when…" He tripped mid-sentence, realizing his slip.   
Yoji raised a brow. "Shinigami?"   
"Lego structure." Trowa deadpanned. Then his jaw finally found its way to the floor. Heero had already thrown the tank aside and was on his knees, ready to…   
"Matte!" Omi had his eyes covered by a quick as lightning Aya, while Quatre had screamed. Ken moaned. "Huh, what's going on…" His eyes widened to saucer size as he realized what Heero was going to do. Duo was just as stunned that Heero actually did it, until…   
"How the fuck did you squeeze in boxers under that tight piece of shit!!!"   
Heero ignored him completely and spent his standing time to spin the bottle. Everyone was still in post-shock mode when the pointy tip ended towards…   
Yoji. The older man smirked, fully aware that anyone who would dare ask him a question even implying towards *there* would have the nosebleed pretty soon. Secretly he wished Ken would ask…   
Omi pointed to Heero. "You have to ask Heero-kun, since you played last."   
He eyed him and considered it, then nodded. Yoji's eyes on him were intent, lips parting to mouth a sensual "Dare".   
Heero barely responded, eyes a wistful enigma. Yoji started tugging on the inner edges of his robe. "Fold my clothing."   
Yoji almost fell over. "H-honto?"   
"I'll still wear it." Was the flat answer. Yoji grumbled something under his breath and started collecting the pieces. Duo started to chuckle. "You mean it's all you wear!"   
Yoji was still muttering to himself as flipped the bottle for luck and twirled it around. If only he could rig the thing… please, please, let it point towards…   
/Damn straight./   
The small blond seemed to shrink. He didn't want to do anything embarrassing! And Yoji was the one choosing… The older boy had dressed him and folded his pajamas to fit, invited him to his room for the night; something in the way he stared at him was making him shiver lightly. Yoji was so much older, and seemed to know what he was thinking all the time, and was so attractive and smooth and…   
"Have you ever been kissed?"   
Time froze.   
He didn't even remember squeaking a timid "Truth", and now appraising emerald orbs were locked with his in heart-stopping eye-contact, the tall, lean bishounen gracefully bending in front of him on one knee and just *staring*, breathing his breath and reading his mind. He felt his entire face heat up as he shook it, dying to steal a small comforting glance from his best friend, knowing that the calm, collected gaze would relieve some of his tension. The unforgiving stare finally softened, a small smirk, a bottle handed to him.   
As he spun the empty sake container, a whisper husked into his ear. "I don't think so…"   
Blue eyes widened, outraged protests brimming from sputtering lips before a large hand swept lightly over his hip. Quatre's back straightened instinctively, jerking up to face Yoji tensely. The assassin was staring at him, expression unreadable, and then winked.   
"Nonononono!!!!" Everyone turned to Ken, knees drawn to bare chest and whining. He was drunk, he knew it, and was definitely in no condition to answering questions or following orders. And besides, he was already sweating, and he hadn't even started yet.   
"Ken." It was a one-word threat. Aya's stare pinned him in place, a hushed, obedient whisper escaping him. "Truth."  
Chocolate brown eyes wandered to Quatre feebly, rejoicing that it was this timid young guest who would be asking him. He supposed he could pass up whatever he would say that night to alcohol in the morning, which wouldn't be far from the truth. As bright blue met his gaze, he thought he saw them flicker, and noticed how Yoji had leaned to the boy's ear to elicit a small protest, before he nodded and turned shy eyes to the floor.   
"Um, Ken-kun, Yoji-kun wants to know if you're, uh…"   
"Bi." Green eyes bore straight to Ken's. Duo all but shrieked.   
Ken blinked, confused, before realization sank in his blurry thoughts and blood rushed doublefold to his head. Quatre buried his face in his hands.   
"Yoji teme!" He made a fist, exasperated, because if anyone Yoji *knew* the answer to that! The lanky blond had resisted smirking but his eyes taunted and his lips quirked. He considered running away, but wouldn't that be telling? And besides, Aya would no sooner be ahead and be poking his throat with his katana.   
He pulled at his sleeves, barely noticing that they weren't there, and started to whimper. He shook his head, and immediately Duo slapped his back rather enthusiastically. "Oh pooh!"   
"Pooh?" Heavy brown eyelashes batted heavily at his direction. "Come on Ken-kun, you can't mean that! What is it, really now?"   
He stared at the boy with utter disbelief. Was Duo coming on to him? He shook the thought and decided against deciding to stay, but then he could feel Aya's icy stare biting him. He shook his head again, this time with more resolve. "No."   
Giggled burst into the tension-thick air. "Liar liar pants on fire!"   
Ken gasped. It was *Omi*. He resisted the overpowering urge to glare at Yoji for the cruelly amused smirk he was sure the man sported, pulling to his knees a little tighter. God if Omi only knew what he did to his pants! He felt his cheeks do a slow burn, and the ringing of flowing alcohol pounding inside his head, and the room was suddenly spinning…   
He passed out.   
  
  
Nagi: The continuation will be in different fics, per couple. Watch out!  
Omi: If you liked this please visit Aki-niichan's dojo at   
http://geocities.com/Tokyo/Blossom/2728/index.html   
Thanx! 


	2. Waiting For The Rain

Endless Weiss: YojiXQuatre - Waiting For The Rain  
Standard Disclaimers Apply!  
  
The glass doors slid open, a tall, dark shadow looming by. "So you're in here."   
  
The boy didn't look back, simply responded. "I like the rain." He was sitting on a the chair Yoji brought out on his balcony whenever he felt like thinking, or just smoking, staring out into the falling curtain of water splashing over his feet. Yoji removed his slippers and padded towards him.  
  
He leaned back against the wall, shoving a cigarette back into his pocket and watched the boy simply take in the view, oblivious to the fact that he was getting wetter by the minute, the balcony's small canopy only enough to protect three-fourths across to the railing. He had his eyes closed.   
  
"Thinking of anything in particular?"   
  
He shook his head. "Just that, peace, could have been so beautiful."   
Kudou Yoji clung to his shoulders, feeling slightly cold in his silky robe from the thrashing wind around them, and the silent words that floated their way to his ears. The boy sounded wistful, regretful, far from the child he seemed to be and was. Somewhere inside, he knew, he felt the same way.   
  
"Could have?"   
  
"Hai. You are lucky."  
  
Yoji straightened, standing on his own, a bit startled by the unusual tone - the words themselves where not uncommonly thrown his way, but this time… it sounded as if the person had meant it. Quatre's words were extremely out of place, and yet he spoke of them with so little drama that they became too real in his ears. He paused for a while unsure what to say, threads of his own regrets wisping in his mind. Losing Asuka twice, and finding love again from the "wrong person", as Ken would call it - somehow, someway, Ken knew just how far the extent of his feelings had become. Far from Aya's little trysts with Schulderich or Crawford, which ever it was of the two who had convinced him to unlock the doors…   
  
It bothered him to no end, how he had fallen so violently for the smoldering dark eyes of an enemy, a murderer, how he had walked into certain death with nothing but a faint readiness in his heart and even nervousness, just willing to accept the consequences up to the very moment he had tasted the cherry softness of untouched lips and plunged into the sweet heat of desire. Or let love die in the chilly whispers of dawn.   
  
He could still remember how perfectly Nagi had fit into his embrace, small fingers refusing to let go even in sleep. How he smelled faintly of roses. How he didn't scream. How he tried not to cry while he entered him. And after.   
  
Those same eyes were mirrors of his own, what his probably was to Schwartz and nothing more. Or nothing less. A soft sigh came from beside him and he turned his curious gaze to the shy boy seated with his hands on his lap. What could possibly trouble this child?   
  
As if knowing he was looking, big blue orbs gazed back. "Gomen Yoji-kun I didn't mean to be so overemotional." He brightened visibly, smiling at him.   
  
Yoji found himself smiling back, stepping closer to the chair and watching the rain with interest gained from Quatre's fascination of it. It was truly different, not getting anything from it but finding it appealing. "What is it Quatre?"   
  
The boy started, smile diminishing slightly. "Nani?"   
  
"I can tell that something's wrong. What makes such a young person as you so adept to life?" Damn he wanted to light up. But smoke, and Quatre... Omi never did let him smoke by the flowers.   
  
Quatre closed his eyes, considering the question. It wasn't important, really. He was just that, another young person, with a number of years to life much less this man had but much more in spirit and experience.   
  
Sometimes, he blamed the war, sometimes himself. Otherwise he would be dead.   
  
"I just, I didn't have much of a childhood." At all, Quatre bitterly added to himself, the few fond memories of his younger years bringing more pain than mirth. Not with the OZ and his father and Sandrock all begging for his attention, asking fro his everything when he hadn't known what he was himself.   
  
Yoji wasn't at all surprised, deducting this from earlier in their conversation. But surely nothing so serious could have happened, nothing so tragic.   
  
It was just a whimper, but Yoji felt, more than heard it. It was too cold and Quatre was shivering, legs splashed with water to his knees. He rubbed his hands briskly for warmth and placed them on the boy's shoulders, and felt him stiffen with his touch.   
  
"Quatre?" What's wrong?   
  
Quatre kept his hands clasped to his chest, not bothering to look when Yoji knelt by his side and reached for him tentatively, waiting for an approval. Again he tensed, but didn't move away.   
  
"Just don't ask anymore Yoji-kun. There are no answers."   
  
Yoji lifted his hand to lightly trace the flushed cheeks, quelling all the uncertainty rising inside him with acknowledgement for Quatre's plea. He let his fingers feel the soft, baby-fine hair, damp strands subject to sideward rainfall sticking to the pale transparent skin on his temples. The winds around them were howling, the storm increasing, enveloping them completely now and thrashing against the wall at their back. Quatre shivered slightly, eyes lidding.   
  
Deep blue flashed, liquid and moist, avoiding Yoji's gaze as he sought more. He couldn't help it; he asked. "Quatre, you're…"   
  
Quatre's eyes broke open, hand over his mouth. "Ie! Not that!" He caught Yoji's hand and pushed it away from his face, a curious sort of half-anger flashing in his eyes. "Never that! Boys don't cry; father told me so." And he, tried, to smile again like he had been smiling for the entire day, for his entire life.   
  
Yoji sucked in breath, not understanding why the words bothered him so. He spoke to him, voice so soft and low he could barely be heard. "And what else did he tell you?"   
  
Limpid pools sheathed once more, rather involuntary. Ah, he'd answered this before, calmed and encouraged by the strength of Trowa's silent presence. He felt Yoji's breath caress his cheeks where gentle fingers trailed. It felt nice… "That the war is useless, that as long as the people dying weren't ourselves then it is none of our concern." His voice was barely a whisper now, as he licked his lips and tried not to suck in breath. The last part, no mater how many times he'd heard it, was always what hurt the most. "I am his only heir. I should be worthy of it."   
  
Yoji listened, every aspect of the small confession unexplainable to him no matter how he sought it. War? Heir? Quatre unworthy? He wanted to *know*, but there was so much he himself had to hide and decided against it, decided that whatever it was would have nothing to do with what he was feeling at the moment. This much he understood; that Quatre *himself* saw himself unworthy, that the boy had lived devoid of affection and warmth and understanding. Much like Omi; much like any of them.   
  
He had enough of words bringing back painful memories. He never did talk to his teammates about his past, except maybe Ken whom he had considerably been closer to than the others. There was nothing he can do about the past, but here and now… Carefully he touched Quatre's chin between two fingers and pleaded the boy to look at him. "Is this why you have never been kissed?"   
  
Finally the features relaxed lightly, Quatre smiling a timid, relieved smile. "Ah, you believe me now, Yoji-kun?"   
  
Casual reception. He flashed his best teasing smirk. "I don't know…"   
  
"Yoji-kun hidoi!"   
  
Quatre giggled and Yoji found himself smiling with less intention and more of a natural gladness, seeing Quatre so cheerful and back to his usual self, as he had seen him. It was a little disturbing how Quatre could be like this, able to shift from incredible contemplation to a pleasant mood to follow suit. It was as if he was used to it, used to bearing harsh wounds with a smile. He decided not to ask anymore and remind him of whatever hurt he was going through. He wanted no more tears tonight.  
  
They were both sopping wet, with him in nothing more than a silk robe, and he enjoyed it. The cold water thrumming against his skin made him feel more alive, as if washing the weight of their previous conversation away.  
  
"You'll have to prove it."   
  
Quatre blinked, once, twice. "Prove it?" It was as if realization took it's sweet time, seconds ticking by until a faint red threaded across the bridge of his nose, eyes glimmering. Yoji took in the beautiful young face, the inviting pouty lips, the drenched black pajamas clinging to skin. Quatre would never say it, could only entail shyly with inward smiles and avid eyes, but he had to ask, had to be sure.   
  
"May I kiss you?"   
  
Flushed cheeks blossomed, if anything, warm breath washing over his face now from pink lips moistened and recently parted. No response, not a nod, and yet blue eyes shone brightly with a hopeful invitation beyond words or actions. Yoji let his hands fall on slender shoulders, bending forward regardless of the downpour now over their heads.   
  
And he kissed him.   
  
  
Click, the storm shut outside.   
  
He remembered his first kiss; the promiscuous sensei that had pressed lipstick drenched lips to his and stayed there until he made an effort to at least smack back. She was probably twenty-eight, twenty-nine at the time. He was twelve.   
  
Yoji watched the young boy dress up in the corner of the room shyly, taking in the well-built arms and legs and chest. Balcony doors long closed, he had changed into a pair of black boxers and lent Quatre the smallest ones he could find - Ken's, which he had *acquired* when the boy was merely seventeen.   
  
Appraising eyes flitted over the pale rear view of the boy as he slid into the shorts. Really, the old faded gray pair had been awfully *lucky* in receiving wearers.   
  
He found himself suddenly flooded by ecchi thoughts and had to look away, patches of exposed skin still fresh in his memory. Quatre's skin looked soo~o soft, just like Ken's had been, and Ken was soo~o tight…   
  
Gah! Was he truly such a hentai that he couldn't get his mind out of *there* even just for a night?   
  
Well… Ken would know the answer to that… he was to him, after all, The Kudou Yoji.   
  
A small scuffling sound caught his attention and once he again he snapped back to his earlier quiet mood. Quatre was hanging wet clothes over chairs, so thoughtful and efficient a child. He reminded him of…   
  
He touched his lips. They were still tingling. It was probably the chastest, most virtuous kiss he had delivered, but the same lack of indecency lingered in his breath. Quatre was sweet and naïve and awkward against his experienced mouth but it worked. And it felt right. He supposed he could very well be a shotakon hentai, falling for yet another blue-eyed fifteen-year old, but at least this time he could say the child showed apparent interest and not tried to blast him to oblivion with invisible hands on their first meeting.   
  
As soon as Quatre finished hanging the wet clothes over various chairs he turned to Yoji. Yoji simply patted the bed beside him.   
  
Quatre slid into the covers nervously - fully aware of how cold it was because of the weather and how little he was wearing. Yoji helped cover him with blankets and lay back himself, pulling sheets to his chin. And Yoji's bedsheets were *silk*, just like his, but it had never been this chilly back home…  
  
"Ne, botchan, are you cold?"   
  
Large hands found his frozen fingers and he couldn't deny it. "Hai."   
  
Yoji pulled him in, nestling him gently in his arms. The way he was pulled forward was almost a shoving manner, but something told him Yoji had not meant it that way. "Better?"   
  
"Hai." Quatre sighed. It was definitely more than better; it felt good. He raised his eyes to Yoji, who was staring at him. "You don't have to be nervous little one, I won't do anything your not ready for."   
  
He nodded, cuddling closer to the broad, warm chest. Yoji had called him little one. He decided he liked that, used to being treated as Sandrock's deadly pilot rather than the child he was. He loved being treated like a child, being coddled. It felt safe, even just for a while.   
  
Just for a while. He clung on tighter.   
  
"Yoji-kun," his voice sounded feeble even to himself, "we might not be able to do this again."   
  
Sleepy eyes blinked open, Yoji taken aback. "H-honto?"   
  
"We, Trowa-kun and everyone, we're always moving." He let his gaze fall, unable to say anything more palpable. They could very well be sent to another uprising the next week, or the week after. The hold around him tightened.   
  
"Quatre." It's alright. Yoji ran his thumb along the clean line of Quatre's lower lip, indulging in tiny gestures that meant everything that could ever have. Whether Quatre moved or not, nothing was to be expected of them and Yoji knew it all too well. He had places to go to, people to kill. And lives to protect; Omi's Ken's, and even Aya's. Young Quatre had so much more. Perhaps it was good and well that this was made clear now before they had invested more emotional ties to their friendship.   
  
Perhaps they already had, the masks slipping between the past and present.   
  
"I'll always be your first kiss, ne?" They both managed false smiles. It hurt somehow, but it was real as only painful truths could be, and predestined as their paths had always been. They didn't even know why it hurt as much, but it did.   
  
Yoji bent forward again, lip brushing against Quatre's forehead lightly. The fair brows were knitted despite the light smile, eyes open and seeing in the dark. He wanted to take in and remember as much of Kudou Yoji, keep his witty smiles and handsome face and the glint of caring emerald orbs behind tinted glasses, and remember the deep whispers and broad hands and soft, gentle lips. A beautiful memory to take with him to war, to his death, to his dreams.   
  
Slowly they closed their eyes and slept.   
  
  
Quatre: If you liked this please visit Aki-niichan's dojo at   
http://geocities.com/Tokyo/Blossom/2728/index.html   
Thanx! 


	3. Little Secrets

Endless Weiss: TrowaXOmi - Little Secrets  
  
There it was again, moaning. Both occupants froze, eyes snapping opening to regard each other. They lay down in complete silence until it started again, this time louder, and within a flutter the younger boy had pinned his ears to the wall, eyes wide.   
  
Trowa kept his face expressionless, grabbing his pillow to block off the sounds coming from the next room. As long as it wasn't Quatre's voice wafting through the air, he absolutely didn't give a whit who was doing what to whom so loudly that it beat out the storm pounding outside. Omi however, was attached to the wall, face a parody of shock. "Masaka!"   
  
Trowa shrugged, uncaring. The room was the last in the hall, with only them to hear the moaning and no one else. Probably the drunken florist and Duo.   
  
"Masaka." It was whispered to full of disbelief that Trowa's curiosity was at least skimmed. He peered to the small boy, who was about to poke his arm. "Is Heero-kun really so…" his voice trailed off, not knowing how to describe it.   
  
Heero? Trowa sat up, a curious feeling nagging at his head. So the next room belonged to… Aya wasn't it? From Omi's reaction and what he himself saw he deducted that this Aya wasn't much of an extrovert himself. Then how could it be possible that… Surely they were mistaken! Sheets trampled to the floor, he was next to Omi against the wall.   
  
/"Mmm… more, faster. Faster!"/   
  
Fists clenched, almost shaking. "What the hell are they doing?" Trowa murmured, mostly to himself. In front of him Omi almost fell over. "Honto?"   
  
"Faster?" Trowa looked confused despite the barest flicker of variation in expression. Heero, definitely the Wing pilot's arrogant voice, was making the most awful sounds, moaning and half-screaming as if he was being tortured. Surely something was wrong - this from a boy who merely winced when shot twice? He had not heard his co-pilot say any more before!   
  
He turned to Omi, who was looking nervously at his hands, and to a certain extent raised his brow. Was the boy hiding something? His friend could be hurt, if one so menacing as to threaten Heero had entered their room. "Tsukiyono-san, we must see if the others are alright." He didn't want to frighten the boy, but this could be urgent.   
  
Omi bowed his head, flushing to his roots. "We c-can't Trowa-kun...!"   
  
"Why not?" Trowa would never show it, but he was getting concerned. If Heero was injured in any way it would be a hindrance to future missions. He took hold of Omi's wrist sternly.   
  
Omi almost gasped at the contact, realization dawning piece by piece, as if he refused to admit it. But when he looked up and encountered the sincere face, it clicked in. Oh.   
  
"Oh." What to say? "You. Don't. Know…"   
  
He could have burst into giggles right there and then, regardless of the chagrin he knew Trowa would not *show*, but something young and precocious and avid was pulling at his strings to keep a straight face and *consider* other options. Teasing Ken with his innocence was one thing, but someone who actually knew nothing?   
  
Oh my.   
  
Trowa's face was blank, analyzing and thinking to a certain extent before finally asking. "Know what?"   
  
"Aya and Heero. They're… being intimate."   
  
Trowa shrugged. He knew of Heero's preferences, and their red-haired host was quite attractive. But he still could not understand the racket. He didn't have to ask, didn't think anything of asking or felt that he had to. He just did.   
  
"What exactly are they doing?" Deadpan as ever.  
  
Omi had to smile. A real smile. It couldn't be helped. Their knees where touching.   
  
"Trowa-kun, you really don't know?"   
  
He merely nodded. He was… curious. Kissing could never be so noisy. He remembered how Duo had kissed him before, soft and sweet, and the usually garrulous baka had uttered not a word during the whole two seconds their lips touched. A record.   
  
/"Uhngn… Gods!"/   
  
With careful scrutiny he pressed his lips on the sunny smile and stayed there, waited. Omi was caught by surprise, not expecting to *be* kissed, hands automatically held in front of him. That was… fast, certainly faster than he could have imagined Trowa could move - almost like when his stalker from Schwartz had pulled him into a dark corner and ravished him before sending him back to the Koneko all dazed and giddy and *hard*.   
  
And he did pick something up. He could still hear the husky voice prodding in his ear.   
  
*Tell me where you want to be kissed.*   
  
Green, Trowa's eyes were green. He hadn't closed them, didn't know the need to. Lighter than the venomous jade that had set the fire in his hormonal teenage body on fire but with the same depth.  
  
Tiny fingers clasped the light cotton fabric of Trowa's shirt, tugging. Omi closed his eyes, hoping Trowa would follow suit, and slowly, shyly kissed back, awkwardly imitating the passionate outburst in his memories. Unfortunately, Trowa failed to respond.   
  
Numerous as it was the number of times he had made-out with Aya's large bed pillows, a real life partner that was *this* passive sucked. *In a bad way.*   
  
He pulled harder, kissed faster. He could have imagined that he was still kissing the assassin or maybe Ken-kun, but knowing it was Trowa did just as well. The older boy was quite handsome, and stoic, and basically a *stranger*. Omi hated strangers for some unknown reason for as long as he can remember, but for a naïve bishounen to be in his room, his arms and his *bed*, well…  
  
Trowa could almost be… mysterious.   
  
And so he persisted until finally Trowa had the grace to close his eyes and at least move his mouth in flow with Omi's, trying to find a pattern. And there was one; head tilting to the right, then the left, then back… Opposite directions, open and close, just setting movements per set. It was easy.   
  
He was getting the hang of it, reading Omi's movements, when it stopped. Trowa blinked open, surprised. He had not tried making sounds yet, testing if it was possible to speak while kissing. Blue eyes were on him, unsteady.   
  
"What are we doing wrong?"   
  
Trowa frowned, a conversation the last thing he was expecting. Was Omi asking him? He shrugged his indifference, fingers to his lips. They felt strange, almost like they were tingling.  
  
"Trowa-kun, this is supposed to be fun." Omi sounded like he was pouting, visually upset by their experience. Before he had been kissed he had never thought of it, and after, it was all he ever thought of. He thought it would always be fantastical, as movie-momentus as when Aya-kun had swiped his hand and brushed his mouth over them in dashing-fashion or sweet like when he would peck at Ken-kun on awkward places of his face and see the older boy blush to his roots. And then there was The Kiss, *everywhere*, by the graceful shadow trailing him after school. But now without the emotion, or passion, kissing was as inanimate and tedious as shaking hands repeatedly.   
  
He had tried, and pushed, and pulled, but something had been missing. Trowa was *not* getting the message.   
  
/"Aa~ah!!/ Heero's husky voice echoed through the walls, teasing at Omi like a pat on the head.   
  
/Maybe next time chibi…/ He raised an imaginary fist, hearing the utterly annoying words hurled at him again - and so realistically rendered in Yoji-kun's voice.   
  
Oh, how did they do it?!? Heero and Aya-niichan, the two least affectionately adept people Omi ever met, so entangled in a heated exchange just beyond thin walls that they forgot just who was next door. Innocent Omi. Naïve Omi. Virginal Omi.   
  
Well he could only not deny the last part, because it was, alas, true, and never had it felt truer so. Omi turned to look at Trowa again, a silent, unresponsive rock by his side. Planning, planning.   
  
/Aya! Who covers my eyes during "love scenes" in movies!/   
  
He toyed with the hem of his shirt, making sure that his belly-button was peeking deliciously above the hem of his pajamas - Ken-kun fell for it each time. But then Trowa's gaze fell directly to the wall, and the only way for him to even notice Omi's little play was if Omi stood in front of him and shoved it to his face. Unsightly indeed.   
  
Sigh. Maybe he should just tell him.   
  
/Why not…?/  
  
It would have needed prodding, granted that Omi was sort of shy in some ways, but he knew how to handle that. Quickly he took in the rumpled array of clothing, long lean legs bent back on both sides and what was in bet- oi not that! Omi tightened his fists and fought the urge to blush. Well, there was still Trowa's naturally inviting lower lip and sexy shoulders and… with not a deep breath, he hurled himself over Trowa.   
  
"O-omi-kun?" The hansome stoic was collected as ever, but Omi saw the little flicker in his eyes. This would be his second, and last, approach.   
  
"Trowa-kun, why don't you tell me what *you* want…?" He batted thick lashes in what he hoped was a seductive manner. Damn the posies if this didn't work…  
  
Trowa thought for a moment, then looked at him directly. "Why are they making those noises? Kissing isn't that exciting, if at all." Ouch.   
  
Ouch… Well, Omi thought he'd let that one pass this time. Greater things were ahead. If anything, Omi regarded, or forced himself to regard it, as a challenge. Suddenly he could feel his insides stir and quiver.   
  
"I'll tell you why…" He put out his tongue, darting at Trowa's nose. It felt silly, but he tried to make it seem sexy and even racy. Ah, his bishounen did say he looked like a pin-up for yaoi mag - he could *do* racy. Before Trowa could say anything else, he drew in the guts and went for the cotton hem of Trows's shorts.   
  
*Direct works best, all the time, angel.*   
  
Trowa had no idea what Omi was going to do, but the moment cold fingers latched over his groin the reaction was instantaneous. He took Omi's shoulders as if to push him away, but of course, couldn't. The small fingers were soft and steady and firm and…   
  
And Trowa's head fell back, the rapid change of expression almost impossible for the stoic boy. "O-omi!" Gods the boy seemed to know what he was doing!   
  
And he *did*. This was something Omi did master, if only by practicing it to himself. By the way Trowa's expression had completely turned around, he knew, he was doing something right. Carefully he wrapped his palm over the building flesh, cradling it and pinching slightly at the skin.  
  
Slowly at first, he pulsed, just kneading enough for Trowa to come to life, working at hardening the amount at his hands. Pretty impressive, Omi noted. That is, larger than his.   
  
"O-omi what are y-you…" Gods, this was getting good! Trowa sounded like he was struggling with the words, and was starting to suck in breath in large gasps. Omi clasped a hand around Trowa's mouth. "You wanted to know didn't you?"   
  
Trowa nodded, eyes falling shut. "Good. Now relax."   
  
He let his fingers work gently at first, then started to move faster when he noticed that Trowa was trying to control the sensation. Oh, but there was a bright crimson line over his cheeks and he was beginning to sweat, fists clenching as his body went rigid, trying not to fall back. And then the lips parted.   
  
It was his cue. Pulling roughly now Omi seized the opportunity, biting Trowa's lower lip to pull his entire upper body nearer then taking Trowa's mouth and finally tasting it. And oh did Trowa kiss him back this time! This time he let his eyes close and he *knew* the difference, full, wide lips crushing against Omi's like he did it all the time.  
  
Omi almost yelped when he was grabbed by the shoulders and gathered close, broad hands rubbing up and down his back, the nape of his neck and even his hair, sudden heat burning between his thighs. This from Trowa, who couldn't even respond just minutes ago! He tried to inch closer, raising his legs over Trowa's to let their bodies collide and wrap them around his hips. He practically wanted to straddle him but didn't feel quite ready, virginal little shivers erupting at the thought. He was getting nervous now! He could still remember The Kiss…  
  
The memory rapped hard at his head and he found himself thrusting his tongue into the wet cavern of Trowa's mouth, who ate on him as though he drew strength from it. Omi strained against the itchy elastic on his wrist, deciding to be rid of it once and for all by extracting the throbbing erection out of the cotton boxers and squeezing - hard. Just for attention. And it worked.   
  
The minute he tightened his hold green eyes had snapped open in shock, abandoning previous pleasure for a look of pleading for more. Omi beamed - it was a Moment; he could very well be Trowa's first, and the thought of "devirginizing" someone, nonetheless handsome, *older* Trowa Barton made him feel absolutely… well, experienced! Yoji-kun can tease him all he wants now, and he couldn't care less. Let's see him resist this little number Omi was sure he would be mastering!   
  
"Come on now Trowa, now's your chance. Try it." He kneaded firmly, delighting on how the steely defenses had slipped and how he was wriggling in place by now. Trowa had always been quiet, too quiet during the whole evening. He wanted to hear the steady voice, *unsteady*.   
  
"This is why, Trowa." Omi whispered into Trowa's ear, the silky, suggestive undertone in his voice genuine this time. Omi himself was more than breathless, but he had way, way more control over the situation. He pinched the tip of Trowa's cock between two fingers, sliding a thumb none-too-gently over the head and into the slit, toying with the forming moisture. With other fingers joining he kept his hand only at the very tip - and stayed there. Tight fists balled up the fabric at the back of his pajamas  
  
"Say something." Trowa scrunched his eyes, wanted to feel more, wanting to bury deeper into Omi's hands. He had and could do this himself but hot damn this was something else! Not just the fact that it was someone else's hand but it was different, how he was being stroked and handled from elsewhere, the angle, the texture, the pressure, and the baby blond haired, blue-eyed Tsukiyono Omi who so unhesistantly surprised him.   
  
He wanted to press as closely to the little blond, his mind vaguely appreciating the graceful softness of Omi's body - he didn't know what was wrong with him but his hands couldn't get enough of the boy! He let his hands wander inside Omi's blouse and felt the boy tense when he felt skin against skin, Omi's back smooth and warm and supple under his fingers. When he tugged the small waist forward a bit roughly this time he heard Omi let out a shivery moan, teeth latching to his ear and coaxing.   
  
"Say anything Trowa. I want to hear it!" Sharp nails poised to scratch the sensitive skin, movement almost ceased. In half-misted awareness Trowa parted his mouth not for better access for Omi's tongue ready to do whatever he had to for the molten pressure in his groin to explode.   
  
"Faster Omi-kun…" Trowa almost begged in murmurs, reining every part of himself that he could. It was so typical of him, but Omi did *not* like murmurs, did not want whispers for his efforts. He tugged long and forceful, then halted near the end, bending forward with a wicked idea.   
  
*Mmm… tender.*   
  
"Aa~agh!!!" Trowa gripped both Omi's shoulders, back arching as sharp teeth cut through the skin between his neck and shoulder. Omi tasted the coppery flavor then winced, and blinked. Blood?   
  
"Oh! Gomen Trowa-kun!" The blush on his own cheeks darkened. He had not intended to wound Trows, just tease. But his skin was so soft on his lips, so invinting - maybe he had been too enthusiastic! Oh no, now Trowa-kun would think he was a psycho-hentai!   
  
Oh but it felt good when he himself was stimulated that way, never mind the tear-jerking twang of pain when the German decided to mark him as his, piercing his right ear with a silver dangling cross right there and then with his bare hands, just pushing the sharp edge into the flesh of his ears.   
  
Well, it couldn't be so that bad since Trowa was obviously *enjoying* the situation as he was! The struggling pilot had not pushed him away or expressed concern, and if anything had buried his face on his neck! He wanted to hear it again though, a scream, a moan, anything, and he would do what was needed but Trowa beat him to the punch.   
  
With a shudder, a strangled sob and head throw, the green eyes shot open. Silence. Then…   
"AAAAAAAAA~AAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!! OMI!!!!!!!!!"   
  
Creamy dampness filled his palm, jutting out forcefully. Trowa fell to his elbows, panting. Immediately Omi stood up, stepped out, and ran to the bathroom down the hall. p  
  
The moment he entered the Weiss' shared bathroom Omi almost melted, winded from his sudden dash across the hall. Oh Kami!!! Trowa had screamed his name, and not just screamed but *moaned*!!! Omi stood pale-faced against the wall, a thousand and one scenarios flashing in his mind…   
  
He wanted to see Trowa out-of-control and begging, but not that much! If anyone was, and surely there was, awake then they would have heard and instantly know! He had done it, made Trowa, made someone else come… But what if Ken-niichan had heard, or Yoji-niichan, and surely Heero and Aya-niichan were still awake and…   
Oh just screw it! Right now he had better things to do!  
  
Quickly he delved into his pajamas, eyes lidding as he found his own painfully neglected and rightfully earned erection, pumping the moment flesh found flesh. His fingers were incredibly cold and it felt amazingly jolting, the friction heating his entire body up quickly. He sank to the floor.   
  
"Aa~ah!!!" He had been waiting for too long! Already he could feel the surging heat down his lower abdomen, maybe lower, begging for it. Absently he wondered how it would feel, what he did to Trowa, recalling with precise diligence Schulderich's lean, muscular thigh that rubbed against his shy erection, the strong broad hands that cupped his buttocks so eagerly as he was groped, sampled and forced to a dark corner, Yoji obliviously smoking somewhere in his peripheral vision just across the street. After that one time he had never viewed Ken the same way again, hoping desperately that he would also be capable of handling Omi so…   
  
*You like it rough, little one. I sense it.*   
  
"Aa~ah!" Golden green sparks burst all over, soccer balls spinning over his head and sticky creaminess inside his shorts. Finally…  
  
Sparkling jade eyes lit over him, grinding, grinding, "H-hai!" - that was all he ever got to say. And now he was sprawled on the floor, a boneless pile of boyish and not-so-boyish fantasies drifting after an efficient, self-induced climax. The tiles felt so cold suddenly under his legs and on the nape of his neck, but he wasn't that sweaty. He had barely finished, hand still lightly pumping once, twice, when…   
  
Bang!  
  
Omi's heart must've stopped, fingers clenching over the flaccid remains of his arousal. It was as if he didn't even recognize him at first, and the overwhelming feeling of dread and horrification glued him to the spot.   
  
"Uh… Niichan…"   
  
Violet orbs broke up into a searing glare, straight to the source of interruption. Omi didn't know now whether to scream or sob - Aya had burst into the bathroom, so urgent his need that he did *not* notice him seated by the tub with his hands caught in his pajamas!   
  
Aya stood there for a full Moment, the two of them staring at each other in disbelief for having caught one another, the last two people they expected or wanted to see. Not young innocent Omi. Not serious, stern Aya. Not the Omi he wanted to teach everything. Not the Aya who he'd only have the nerve to ask by acting naïve… Calmly Aya withdrew his hand from his pajamas, proptly placing it behind his back.  
  
"O-omi." Red faced, barely-controlled fury, voice still as calm as always. "Get out." Omi squeaked and turned to flee, but not without a tight grip grabbing his collar from behind…   
"Wait."   
  
  
Wobbly knees took a step at a time, soap-scrubbed hands pulling the door knob open after padding across the hallway with his little secret, little secrets that spilled more than usual that night - one now lying on his bed. God had Aya given him a fright! And of all people! With all the moaning and cooing they heard from his room he had expected Aya to be the least in need of relief! Strangely though the older boy had still the sense of discipline to make him wash his hands when all he wanted to really do was scramble out of the bathroom and wish Aya would think it was a dream in the morning!   
  
  
Trowa remained still, fallen asleep, even as he crawled on his side and twisted to find a comfortable position, tempted to snuggle up to the older boy but not wanting to disturb him.   
Funny, he was exhausted. Must be all the thinking, Omi mumbled, dozing of. "Oyasumi Trowa-kun" he murmured sleepily.   
  
"Oyasumi."   
  
Omi eyes blinked open one at a time. He thought he heard Trowa say something, but the boy was still on the same position, unlikely awake. Omi shrugged, shifting in position to move a little closer to the barely lit fine features. Long arms and limbs opened and welcomed him, a small but actual smile. Omi beamed.   
  
"Ah. Sweet dreams Trowa-kun."   
  
  
Omi: Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, please visit my niichan's dojo at http://clik.to/shiine  
  



	4. Neru Daroo /I Probably Slept/

Endless Weiss: KenXDuo - Neru Daroo /I Probably Slept/  
He opened his eyes, blinked once, twice. Darkness. Where was he?   
  
Deep blue finally blinked back, a cool hand brushing over his forehead. "Ken-niichan, dou?" Sweet voice, tiny fingers; Omi. He managed a wan smile, forcing himself to get up from the sofa.   
  
"Ne, gomen Omi-chan…" The living room was empty, lights switched off for the night. Omi followed his gaze and waved his hands in the air. "Oh no it's alright niichan! Aya-kun said we should go to bed early anyway! And besides, the others didn't want to play anymore."   
  
Ken lifted his hand to tousle the tawny head of hair, pleased at how Omi tried to make him feel better. "Guess you kids need your sleep."   
  
Omi nodded, then blinked, eyes bright. "Can you make it to your room?"   
  
Ken hooked his arm around Omi's neck playfully, pretending to choke the boy. "Of course I can, you!" Omi wriggled and laughed at himself, realizing that Ken was only out for five minutes because of alcohol and not of a mission fiasco.   
  
Ken immediately stopped, realizing his mistake of pulling the lovely child up close. He could smell Omi's hair, his skin, the strawberry-rose-whatever milk body wash Yoji gave him… He let go instantly, making a show of standing up to prove that he was fine. Omi took his hand and started to lead him towards the hallway when a familiar voice chirped in. Over the kitchen counter was Duo, waving madly. "Ken-kun, you're up!"  
  
***  
  
Duo sat by the edge of the couch, eyes glued to Ken as the soccer player drank from the glass of water he brought him. He watched eagerly as the fazed older boy reached over to the coffee table to settle the glass and wobbled, war-honed reflexes kicking in the moment Ken faltered and almost fell off the sofa. Almost, that is, since Duo had taken the opportunity to throw himself at him, pinning him on his back against the soft cushions.   
  
"Ken-kun, be careful!" Duo burst in a huff, then grinned at his own words - imagine them coming from him! Wufei would probably faint! Beneath him Ken's face flushed as well as his entire upper body from the sake intake and his breathing was quicker than normal. Without delay Duo's attention immediately focused at the parted lips as a small pink tongue slid out to wet them, his own tongue doing the same, any more thoughts of Nataku's pilot stripped from his mind Ken's eyes lidded. Suddenly his throat felt dry and constricted, his next words lost.   
  
He had seen this scene in Be X Boy a hundred times before and dreamt about almost every night, but here and now he had no clue what to do - idiot! The plot in his mind was easy: sexy drunk older half-naked bishounen in sofa, almost total darkness except for lightning outside, faces a scant inch apart; he knew what to do, that he should kiss him, and now, but /dammit/… how!?! This was far from the chaste little kisses he gave Trowa or Heero after battles where all he wanted to share was a little comforting gesture. Warm breath washed over his face and he stiffened, noting just how close they were, and what pressed *where* - definitely far for plain congeniality. Closing his eyes and sucking in breath, he lowered his mouth.   
  
Ken's lips were moist and welcome, accepting him readily as broad hands clung to his back and pulled him closer. The eagerness came as a surprise and Duo found himself cupping the older boy's face, enjoying every moment of his first victorious step. Yes, he had done it! And it was soo~o good… He could still taste the alcohol in his lips, warm and sweet, and when Ken's tongue crushed against his lower lip he eagerly sucked on it. It was like agreeable sake flowed from Ken's mouth itself, and by all means God knows Duo would happily accept! He let his hands wander the smooth broad chest, just exploring and savoring the feel of the silky skin and wanting to get rid off his own shirt. He made quick work of the buttons and let the red pajama top stay open, concluding that the matching trousers would have to go as well - out of Ken's athletic body that is. He fumbled with the waistband, wasting no time at all.   
  
The moment his fingers dipped the edge of the elastic burnished brown eyes blinked open and a wide palm was shoved into his face, that is, taking him by surprise. Granted, Duo Maxwell was a damn good Gundam pilot, but outside the cockpit and solely in black boxers he was a klutz. The slight push had him tumbling to the floor and bonking his head on the table's edge.   
  
"Owowowow…!" he rolled around the floor wailing, more of embarrassment. What the… this never happened in doujinshi! He thought they were past that plot twist! Heavy hands clutched his collar and yanked him to his knees.   
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing!?!" Ken's face was bursting red, exasperation overwhelming him.   
  
"Uhm, kissing you?" Duo flashed a shy smile, looking much younger.   
  
"I know that!!!" He answered defensively, tugging harder. "You brat!"   
  
"Hey, you kissed me back!" Duo shot out, not out of anger but merely to say something. He wanted to struggle out of Ken's grip but didn't, actually starting to… like it? Regardless of hostile behavior Ken did bring him closer and their lips were almost touching and he was so in the position to…   
  
"Gah! Stop that!" Immediately Duo was sent back to the floor, Ken trying to wipe himself with his palms. Who would have thought? He could barely believe it… Duo had felt him up! Those small, silken fingers had smoothly glided over his breasts and… and he never felt more like a woman in his life! Americans could be so aggressive at times…   
  
"Why Ken-kun…" the tone of voice was teasing, almost cocky. "If you weren't such a babe magnet I'd say you're a virgin…"   
  
"What?!?" Ken's jaw dropped in indignation, face resuming a healthy red color. Why the audacity of this boy! He, Hidaka Ken, was not a virgin! Just because he hung out with kids and made flower arrangements and carried loose yen for Orangina in his apron it didn't mean he was a…   
  
"Welp." Duo flicked out the word with *much* satisfaction.   
  
A… Welp…! He, Hidaka Ken was NOT a welp!!! He almost stood up, intent on choking Duo. "Why you li… w-welp? W-what does that mean?"   
  
Duo broke into gurgles all over the floor, making Ken all the more sputter and enrage, brown flames smothering with a death glare fit for Aya. "You! Why I'll have you know I've not just fucked anyone but "the" Kudou…" he began abruptly, before he caught drift with what he going to blurt out. Violet eyes widened, then blinked, then *oo~oed*.   
  
"Oo~h, so you have done it! Kudou is it? Come on tell me, what's his first name?" Duo insisted, curious as a cat. Ken looked like he was having a fit shuddering at the thought that he considered being bedded by the lanky playboy a sexual achievement… /Oh but it was!/ And not just by Yoji, but probably the only other man in Tokyo who… Quickly he shoved the libidinous thought in his brain for a more pleasant one, like sun shiny days and World Cups and ice-cream and…   
  
And a small sigh escaped his lips. Omi.   
  
"Is he one of the florists?" Duo asked, leer still in full force. It looked rather ridiculous.   
  
"Oh shut up!!!" The word florist hit just a little too close to home and he decided Duo was too talkative for his own good. Ken decided to go to the kitchen to get more water. His throat was suddenly constricting.   
  
"Hmm…" Ken could almost hear the wheels in Duo's head turning. "Is it… Omi?"   
  
Ken gasped, aghast beyond words. Could the brat be reading his thoughts? Did he say Omi's name out loud? Either way the remark had hit a button, and he was reeling in shock. Duo's started to making little circles around his knee, face a constant smirk. "I'd never imagine you to be a shotakon hentai Ken-kun."   
  
"I am NOT!!!" Ken burst out in indignation. He had already made a fist, ready to knock Duo silly. "You leave Omi-chan out of this!"   
  
Dancing fingers made their way upward. "You like him don't you?"   
  
More sputtering. "How… NO!" Why the little akuma! Ken wanted to say significantly more, but his concentration kept snapping back to whatever Duo was writing on his thigh with his finger. /K_U_D_O_U__O_M…/   
  
"Gah! Stop that you!"   
  
Duo propped his chin over his arms, draped over Ken's lap. He hid the last hints of a wild chuckle to give Ken his best innocent pout - the one even Heero bought and gave him less push-ups for. If Ken was going to be resisting he couldn't try the normal section route since he did have *hardly* previous experience of it, and would have to try a different approach. Something more bona fide, like… the truth. Twisted in ways.   
  
"Ken-kun…" he sounded almost wistful. "How does it feel like?" He rubbed his cheek against the back of his hand, making it completely obvious.   
  
Ken gulped, still nervous. He did try to sound stern. "What?"   
  
"To… make loo~ove." Duo's voice was silky smooth, making him sound like a late-night deejay. He made eye contact at the exact same moment the "v" thrummed from his throat, eyelashes sweeping dark shadows over his cheeks as he lowered his chin and *blinked*.   
  
Ken stared, dumbfounded exactly five full seconds before the act clicked. Duo was giving him a Look? His lower lip threatened to tremble and he bit on it, eyes deviating from the adorably cute face before he could lose his control and…   
  
"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!" God that was absolutely the funniest thing he had seen in days! Duo was, was…   
  
"What's so funny?" Duo snapped, the Look twisting into a pout. "Oi Ken, answer!"   
  
Ken was laughing so hard tears were almost flooding his eyes enough to fall. He could feel the light punches tapped on his shoulder but he ignored them, holding his sides as if they would split. "Ohoo~o you were, *cough cough* that… the *cough* I mean *cough cough*…   
  
And as fast as he burst into laughter he broke into a coughing fit. Duo threw his hands up in the air and smacked him.   
  
"Great! There goes the mood!" He stood up and pivoted a full 180 degrees, inwardly lamenting his loss and strangling himself for the entire stupidity that had just taken place… Him getting laid - what a joke. "I'll get you some more water before you choke." /grumble grumble/.   
  
Ken fell on his knees to the floor, hand still clutching his stomach. "Duo…!" Perhaps he had been too insensitive, but the Look on Duo's face was priceless! He looked like a naughty cartoon poster boy!   
  
Ken exhausted the last of his laughter, the feel of Duo's hands lingering all over him. Suddenly he fell to an odd type of silence, just thinking. Sure, Duo *was* funny, but… Still, that was… rude. If he had done that to Omi, or if Omi had done that to him, no mater how innocently intended, he was bound to take a huge crash. Ken held back all the remaining chuckles, effortlessly, the tiniest spark of amusement consummed with guilt in his throat. Swiftly he stood up, not without stumbling a little, and trudged over to the kitchenette where Duo was taking a bit too long.   
  
"Mm, the water's over here Duo-kun." He stopped by the refrigerator, clinging to the handle. Damn he was getting dizzy really fast.   
  
"I know that!" Duo spat out, although he sounded like he was controlling it. The boy sounded really upset. "I'm making you some coffee."   
  
"Wha~ah?" Ken puzzled. Duo was making him coffee? But it wasn't time for breakfast yet… was it?   
  
"It's wake you up or get you more drunk til you fall asleep, or you'll probably end up hurting yourself." He gave Ken The Eye, emphasizing the words "you" and "yourself". He was surprised to see that Ken had slugged his way to his back.   
  
"Duo em sorry I…" Ken promptly fell, stumbling with his words and his step, and would have crashed over the counter if Duo didn't catch him.   
  
"Shit Ken-kun you're such a klutz!" Duo admonished, totally feeling superior and enjoying being at the opposite side of a reprimand for once. He wanted to remain stern, but it really wasn't his style. Hell, Quatre could do strict better than him! At his words Ken blinked, then shook his head. Deja vu.   
  
"Damn it's happening again!" Ken clutched his scalp, frustrated. "Stupid room won't stop shaking…"   
  
"Sure, sure, blame the room… that's soo~o Wufei…"   
  
"Nani?"   
  
"Nothing." Duo slid his arm around Ken's torso, holding him up. "Look man, you better sit down first while I get this ready so you can…   
  
Ken's eyes narrowed, hand covering Duo's mouth. "Oi! Didn't you want me drunk?"   
  
Duo sighed. "You can't do drunk Ken-kun. You're more like a walking zombie like this." Frustration tinged his tone. "Plus the fact that your sense of humor has become shallower that mine!"   
  
Ken scratched his head sheepishly. "Ehehe… that was what I was going to say…"   
  
Duo sighed again, tousling Ken's soft head of hair out of annoyance rather than affection. "Forget it man. You just sit there and mmp!!!"   
  
Duo stepped back, reached back for nothing and stumbled into the kitchen corner, eyes saucer-sized as licked lips pressed to his, Ken's entire weight thrown to his direction and *pushed*. What the…   
  
"Oi Kemmmph…" large hands started wandering, "whagurgglell…" one reopening buttons, "nowyggll…" one straight to his groin, "mmmMYAAAA!!!". Duo's head finally snapped back, hitting the wall.   
  
"Yow!!!" Half-sob. "Duo no baka!!!" He pointed an accusing finger at Ken's lidded, lop-sided grin. "Iie, Ken no baka!!!" He almost shrieked when Ken's face found his chest and stayed there.   
  
"Ken!!!" He grabbed both the older boy's ears and pulled. "Man what is wrong with you! One minute you're shoving of my face and the next minute you wanna…"   
  
…wanna…   
  
Oh.   
  
Duo's face blanked, blinked, then drew into a questioning smirk. Oh. He let Ken nuzzle his left shoulder for a while, heart pounding double fold as the scenario built before his very eyes.   
  
/And I am bothered by this because…?/   
  
The sensation of Ken's warm kisses and the resurgence of hope after his earlier failure was overwhelming, and Duo felt absolutely giddy. He couldn't help it. He started giggling.   
  
Ken's face turned to him, etched in confusion. "Duo?" He quickly smacked Ken's lips noisily and threw his arms around his neck and giggled.   
  
"Take me to *our* room gorgeous."   
  
Ken blinked. "Does this mean you forgive me?".   
  
***   
  
Ken huffed, and puffed, and kicked the door open as he lugged the armful of Gundam pilot wriggling in his arms and showering his face with little kisses. He wasn't that heavy, but with the floorboards spinning and all…   
  
He threw the boy on the bed, automatically reaching for the drawers in his closet for the left-over tube of lube he kept with his doujinshi stack. If he hadn't thrown him in first he would never get the chance to get the lubricant later, with Duo's hands intent on driving him crazy with lust. Briefly he wondered why it was so mechanical that he had sought the little tube... Oh yeah, bad experience.   
  
His eyes flickered briefly over Duo, a braided, half-naked, babe-of-a-jailbait cavorting in his bed. Hot damn the kid was sexy, and when the little charade he was trying to pull off moments ago finally died down his actual charms had been more than enough to let Ken *reconsider*. That and perhaps the warm soothing thrum of sake burning in the pit of his stomach that sent waves of heat down his groin whenever the bushy ends of spun honey brushed against his skin. He decided that Duo was much cuter with his guard down… now they had to do something with those itsy-bitsy black shorts.   
  
Sinewy arms latched to his neck the moment he fell over the boy, lips meshing only for a moment before Ken's mouth came diving to the sweet young chest once again and finally flicking his tongue over a nipple. Duo moaned.   
  
"Ooh… this *does* feel good…" he murmured, head rolling back as Ken ventured to the other, then traveled to his abdomen inch-by-inch, lick-by-lick. He felt a shift over his body, hand reaching down to…   
  
"Shit!" despite the tender ministrations on his upper body, one broad hand suddenly grabbed him over the fabric of his boxers and groped him, *hard*. Ken was telling the truth - he had done this before, Duo was *very* sure now! And God he knew what he was doing! Fingers dug slightly to his flesh while Ken's broad palm grinded over his erection, turning his insides into senseless, mindless mush, his directness making feel Duo helpless and loving it.   
  
"Kee~en…" whatever he was going to say was cut off with a sloppy kiss, Ken ravishing his mouth as his other hand started tugging down the band of his boxers. Whatever Ken was going to do, he wanted to do it *now*. He broke contact only for a few seconds to pull of Duo's boxers and then rid himself of his pajamas.   
  
Duo peered with heavily lidded eyes, back arching to meet more of the burning heat searing his skin with every touch, lick and caress Ken was draping his young body all over with. And he could feel himself get even harder /which now hurt hurt hurt/ when he caught a glimpse of Ken's entirely naked flesh an instant before he covered his. Omi told him that Ken was into soccer, but he didn't expect him to be that buff! He must've been one hell of an athlete!   
  
"Kimochi e w-wa…" Duo begged, panting. He was dangerously, dangerously near the edge. Ken's hands went back to his sides, sliding upward in a sweeping caress before one hand caught his wrist. He felt their fingers interlacing, Ken handing something small into his fist.   
  
"Nani?" Duo's left eye blinked open, hand lifted to his line of sight. "K-ken?"   
  
Hot, ragged breath husked over his ear. "Do it Duo."   
  
Major flashback, doujinshi chapters. His mind was *not* in proper working sequence right now. He knew that little crumpled tube looked familiar…   
  
Mou! "K-ken! Why are you giving, aa~h, this to me?" Ken was busy nipping at his chest, leaving dainty red marks everywhere. The boy definitely had some sort of fetish.   
  
"Do it…" Ken's erection prodded him, begging and pressing in all its throbbing enormousity. Duo immediately pushed to the sensation, aching for the lovely rubbing of flesh. All conscious thought threatened to disappear.   
  
"But… I've never done…"   
  
Ken's face jerked up, startled. "You mean you were telling the truth?"   
  
Duo yanked Ken's hair down and maneuvered it right back to his chest, teeth gritting, but not entirely out of anger. "Bastard."   
  
"Duo…" Ken was planting teasing kisses all over his right shoulder. "I've always been bottom…"   
  
Duo widened his legs, prodding. "There's always a f-first time. Come on Kenken…"   
  
"Duo," Brown eyes gazed directly into his, swirling with unmitigated lust and an alcohol-induced haze, smoldering in all its sudden seriousness. Somewhere deep in them was still the same kind-hearted concern Ken had always been known for, and for a moment Duo just stared at the earnest face.   
  
"I can't take care of you properly and it's your first time." He unscrewed the lube cap and squeezed some on his fingers. "I can take the pain more."   
  
Ken's lips lowered over his, parting his mouth with his tongue as his hands sought down. If Duo was ever going to argue, all thought of it disappeared as careful fingers sought his erection and covered his entire length with the scentless gel. Iie, not really scentless… it reminded him of… orange blossoms?   
  
Ken broke away first, breathless, as he propped himself up on his palms and aligned himself with Duo. "Ken-kun I've no…"   
  
Ken kissed him again, this time quickly, but not thoughtless. "Don't worry," he whispered into Duo's ear, "I'll ride."   
  
Duo looked down between their bodies, heart pounding like mad, and held his breath. God damn the view was amazing! Ken was lowering himself slowly over his erection, twisting slightly to fit in the head and…  
"Aa~ah!" And damn he had wanted to watch! The moment he had impaled Ken halfway through the fire in his groin re-ignited, his cock engulfed in a liquid, heated clamp that *refused* to let go and sent his head snapping back on the mattress. Ken went carefully, eyes shut, and Duo was glad they were taking it at his pace because it had to hurt. Ken was just so tight!   
  
By the time Ken's rear had parked over the flesh of his thighs Duo was so lost in the heat his head was swimming. Lightly he felt Ken's lips brush over his, then back again to kiss him more seriously.   
  
/easy, easy now…/ Ken kissed with full attention, letting his muscles relax and recollect the feeling of being penetrated. It *did* hurt, even though Duo was considerably smaller than his previous encounters due to his age. Oh but how he *loved* being filled! The Schwartz leader had been right all along…   
  
*you were made to be uke Hidaka*.   
  
Duo inhaled deeply as Ken finally started to move, hips lifting an inch or so and falling back again while he shook them slightly, starting a little friction. It didn't take long before Duo followed suit, getting into the rhythm, his arms wrapping around each of Ken's shoulders and forcing his eyes open, wanting to see Ken's handsome face fill with the pleasure he was sure was in his. "Ken…"   
  
"D-duo…" Ken was grunting, hips lifting higher and higher each time as he tried to find that fabulous place that he knew had to be in him *somewhere*. It was just a little deeper, a little more…   
  
"Duo…" his breathing rasped, sweat on his forehead. Ken took both Duo's forearms and broke loose, hips pistoning violently as he sought for the unforgettable feeling. With Duo's hands pinned to his sides Ken worked on his hands and knees, ass lifting in the air as he pressed Duo inside him.   
  
"Aa~h" Oh God there it was! Ken let out a throaty half-gasp, half-scream as he found the right angle, readily bouncing up and down attached to Duo's erection while sought for it again. Duo's eyes cracked slightly, watching Ken throw his head back, eyes drinking the erotic sight of Ken's upper body shivering and panting over him, his hands aching to reach out and stroke the lean, muscular body all-over. Shit, Ken looked good, and he doubted he could look any better than this!   
  
"Ken… I wanna touch…" Ken didn't hear him, but he felt the grip loosen from his left arm and Ken immediately grabbed the heavy cock pulsing over his navel. Duo could feel it, heavy surges pulling from all over, burning it's path down to his thrashing groin and demanding to all gush out in one powerful, earth-shattering explosion - that one touch was all he needed.. His body arched up, barely controlled by Ken's imposed binds, a hand clamping his mouth.   
  
"Ammp!!!" Immediately Ken's face was inches from his, hips still moving towards a similar goal as he silently coaxed Duo to keep it down. Within a minute or so his body tensed, arms wrapping around Duo out of their of volition and clinging tightly as he released his seed between their bodies, only a faint murmur coming from his mouth. God he was so used to having to keep it down…   
  
They lay there that way for a few hazy post-orgasmic moments, Ken eventually rolling off Duo considering how heavy he was. He knew how embarrassing it could be to say it out loud.   
  
/Oh that was good…/ He was still uke but he felt so much more in control this time, the sensation of Duo inside him still warming him up and filling his entire body with tingles. But his eyes were growing heavy and…   
  
"You. Are. So." Duo rolled slightly to his side, body draping over his as he took the opportunity to finally run his hand over Ken's smooth chest. "Rough." Ken was quickly slipping, eyes already lidded, but Duo still gave him a sated, sexy grin. Duo nuzzled his cheek, eyes bright despite the comfortable, dreamy-sleepy feeling in his head. "You probably won't remember this when you wake up…" Ken barely responded.   
  
Duo gave him one quick peck, fingers still tracing the contours of Ken's upper body. "That is, until you see me here…!" He broke into a thousand giggles, plotting his witty dialogue for a flustered, exasperated, unbelieving oniichan "the-morning-after…" Like a candle blown-out, the twinkling violet pools lidded and was closed for the night. Duo was asleep.   
  
That assured, Ken snuggled to his little prize before standing up to collect their discarded shirts in the kitchen, pausing briefly only to put on his pajamas and give Duo a quick kiss on the cheek. Perhaps Aya had been wrong… he could get used to sake after all.  
  
  
  
  
  
/Ee~eh? There's more? Have you seen Omi and Trowa? What about Yoji and Quatre?/   
http://clik.to/shiine  



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